


The Delete Key

by CastielTheAngel



Category: Phandom
Genre: Death, Happy, Journal Entries, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Sad Ending, Suicidal Dan, Suicidal Phil, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6752089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielTheAngel/pseuds/CastielTheAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A keyboard is not a keyboard without its delete key."</p><p>or</p><p>He's been missing his best friend. He decides to write about him and share what's in his mind with the internet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Delete Key

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This contains suicide and mentions of self harm and depression. There will be sad themes and a death scene. If you are easily triggered, I would not advise continuation. Read at your own risk.

_Have you ever lost someone? Someone that you care about, someone that you love? A friend, a higher figure that you looked up to, even a family member?_

_I have._

 

****

** October 1, 2016 **

_I knew he was depressed. I always knew it. I thought I was keeping him happy though. I guess I wasn't enough._

 

_There's something about that phrase, "wasn't enough". . . . It makes me feel that. . . In the end, I could have done something. . . But I just didn't. . ._

_Now maybe that's just me._

_Everyone says that it's not my fault. But now that I think about it, now that I look back on all those moments. . . I wonder if there was actually something I could have done? Was there some. . . Some tiny, itty bitty little detail that I was missing?_

 

_There was something that got under his skin. Something either big enough to end it all, or little enough to repetitively tick his stress to the point of explosion._

 

_I knew him since year seven. He was a bright, excited ball of love and light. We stayed best friends for the longest times, even when we went off to different secondary schools._

_Then came the worst._

 

_It was year ten in secondary school for him- I had just gotten out- when his dad died. His dad was the light of his life. The person he looked up to, and dare I say, loved the **most**. He was devastated. He was even more so when his mum re-married. To a downright evil douchebag of a man, out of all people. _

_He was horrible to them. Every night my friend would get beaten by him. He'd get pummelled to the core and he'd show up to school with fresh bruises on his soft, pale skin nearly every day. The man wasn't much nicer to his mum either. The horrid guy would hurt her too. But she was 'too nice' to dump the sick psychopath._

_My friend was certainly brave to stay in that house, that's for sure. He did occasionally stay with my family and I for a few days when when it got really bad over there. He never did tell me the full story though, not until it was too late to do anything about it. He'd always just list off excuses like,_

_"My parents are away for the next few days. Mind if I stay over?"_

_"I need to get away from my house for a while."_

_"Things are hectic over there."_

_"My parents are fighting right now and I don't want to be there."_

_He even admitted to being hit in the neck with a beer bottle by his step-dad when I questioned him about the large black and blue mark. I literally **wouldn't** let him go home for a full **week** , no matter how much he insisted that his presence was a bother and that he should go. Which, he wasn't a bother at all, by the way._

 

_I insisted that he move in with me as soon as he got out of school and could get away from his parents legally. So he stayed at my flat for the first few months of him being out of school. He eventually went back to his old house to get the last of his objects of importance._

 

_I regret not going with him. He came home with a bloody nose and bruises littering his pale body._

 

_I'd had him sit on my bed while I treated his cuts. I even had to wrap his arm because it hurt so much to move. I took him to a doctor and he'd had a broken elbow. His sick bastard of a step-dad had **broken his fucking arm.**_

 

_-_

 

 _Everything was pretty much perfect from then on. He and I moved to London and it was great. Until he saw his step-dad roaming the streets while on a grocery run. Needless to say, he didn't go to the market_ _. He came back shaking with a bloodied lip and tears rushing down his flushed cheeks. Later that same night he had a panic attack and I had to come in and calm him down. Whether it was his bed or mine, we slept in the same one every night since then._

 

_He lost all happiness. He lost his light, his laugh, . . . his love. He was almost. . . Emotionless. I'd never seen this side of him before. I'd seen him sad and crying before, yes, but never just completely empty to the world. I'm not trying in any way to glorify myself or anything, but according to him, I was the only thing keeping him alive._

_That scared me._

_I wanted so badly to tell my parents, or a school counsellor, or someone. . . But I never did. Why? Because I was stupid. I was stupid for listening to him. For listening to his pleas for me to not tell someone. For listening to him promise over and over again that he was okay. That he was fine._

_He wasn't._

_He wasn't fine, and he wasn't **going** to be fine. Well he might have been. . . But wait, that actually **is** my fault. I could have done something, and I should have. But I didn't. I didn't do enough. I didn't do anything, period. I wasn't enough for him. That phrase comes back into play. I was never enough. If I had been enough, he would still be here. If I had been enough, my best friend wouldn't be dead. He'd be alive. He'd be here with me. But then again, maybe it's both of our faults and not just mine. If he'd only told me the truth. . . Then maybe I could have helped. . . . _

 

_Maybe he'd still be alive._

 

**_I want to kill myself._ **

 

_xx -sad anon._

 

 

 

 

 

 

_-_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**November 1, 2016**

  _Did I ever mention that my friend and I were actually more like boyfriends rather than best friends?_

_Yeah..._

_We were never completely official though. We didn't even know whether we were gay or not at the time. We just knew that we loved each other. Whether it was platonic or there was actually something between us, I'll never know._

_I didn't get the chance to ask him what we were. I just know that I loved him. With all my heart._

 

_I still do._

 

_**I still want to kill myself.** _

 

 _xx -sad anon_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**December 1, 2016**

_Do you ever wonder what would happen if the moon fell out of the sky?_

 

_Some may say that the moon is under appreciated._

_Some may not care about the moon._

_Some may not even believe in its existence at all._

 

_It seems like a small, insignificant part of our lives._

_It comes out when we're asleep._

_I wonder if it gets sad when it realises that very few people are awake in the night to appreciate its dull light._

_Maybe that's why it's so dull in the first place._

_Because it's sad._

_Sad because nobody seems to love it._

 

_Bringing up that point reminds me of him. He made such a small impact in the world to some, yet to his friends and family he was fucking amazing. I just wish he'd known that. I still wish I could have done something._

 

_**And... Yes, I still want to kill myself.** _

 

_xx -sad anon._

 

 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

** February 1, 2017 **

_Did you guys know that today is Harry Styles' birthday? Probably. He's turning 23, right? Wow._

 

_...._

_I've finally decided to do it. I've been thinking about this for a long time now. I'm sure that I want to do it. Life is the only thing standing in between us and I can't physically take it anymore. So this is it. I'm cutting the wire. I'm done. Just so done. With everything._

 

_Thank you to all of you who have supported me in the comments of my journal entries. I read every single comment. Unfortunately, I won't be able to read the ones you comment on this one... If you do decide to comment..._

 

_I love each and every one of you. This isn't your faults. Your kindness has been amazing and I'm not doing this because you didn't try hard enough to convince me. Because if I could go back and rethink my decision, I wouldn't do it yet. But it's too late._

 

_Actually it's not too late, technically. But in my mind it is._

 

_Thank you for being there for me... I guess in return I should tell you who I am and who I've been talking about this whole time._

 

_-_

 

_My name is Philip Michael Lester. Or just Phil. I actually prefer just Phil, if you wanted to know. I live in London right now. I'm six feet and two inches. I've got dark hair and blue eyes. I also look a bit like Voldemort with my pale skin. My friend used to call me Phildemort... I miss him so much... Anyway. I was born in 1987 and I just turned 30. According to most people, I don't look my age._

 

_My best friend's name is Daniel James Howell. Or just Dan. I'm pretty sure he prefers just Dan. We used to share a flat together. Before he ... did it. He was twenty-five the last time I saw him. He'd just turned twenty-five two months before it happened; on June 11th. He was a little taller than me. Not by too much though. He had brown hair and cute puppy eyes. He almost looked kind of like a chocolate lab. So adorable. He was the sweetest person in the world. Yes, he came off as sarcastic and always irritated on the outside, but on the inside the lad had a heart of gold. He was the least intimidating person on the planet. He kind of reminds me of Winnie The Pooh, to be perfectly honest. Needless to say, you guys who have been reading this... you would have loved him. He was amazing._

 

**_I'll never forget the day that Dan finally pressed the delete key._ **

 

_-_

 

_We had the most unique relationship. I want it back. Do you get it?_

_I just want us to be happy again._

 

_..... Bye.. </3 <3_

 

**_xx -soon to be happy anon. or just Phil._ **

 

 

 

 

 

 

**_-_ **

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Phil picked up the small razor blade. He didn't want to do it. He was scared. What if he didn't see Dan? What if this was all for nothing? What if the only thing out there after death was dark unconsciousness for eternity?

Then he realized he didn't care what happened after he did it. He just didn't want to live anymore. The pain of losing Dan followed him around like a puppy and he needed it to stop. Darkness forever or not, Phil definitely didn't want to be on Earth anymore.

 

He was too scared to slash his own veins open, too scared to inflict any more pain on himself. So he got a cup of water and sleeping pills. He downed pill after pill, one by one, a sip of water with every swallow until he couldn't see straight. It was too late to go back now.

So with a tiny smile of submission, as if finally giving in and letting the hardships of life win and laugh in his face, Phil sat back against the edge of the bathtub and waited. He counted slowly aloud as darkness enclosed around him. And was he still afraid?

 

Not one bit.

 

One,

Two,

Three,

Four...

_Five....._

_Six......._

_Seven............._

_Eight................_

 

_-_

 

Phil found himself opening his eyes. Had the pills somehow not worked on him? He stood up in panic before coming to the realization that he wasn't in his bathroom anymore. Everything was bright. Too bright.

 

Then he saw it.

 

A tall figure walking over to him. With a beautiful smile, dark brunette fringe, slender figure, concave dimples and all. Bruise-less and beautiful.

 

Happiness was the only thing Phil felt after that. He knew exactly who it was without even looking at his face.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_"Dan."_

 

 

 

 


End file.
